


I don't need the odds in my favor, as long as I have you.

by Shinosuke



Series: The Raven Cycle - Alternate Universes, because I can [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Capitol Gansey because duh!, Career Kavinsky, District 12 Adam and Blue, District 3 Ronan, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fighting, Kinda, Multi, Noah is only dead inside, Violence, What Can I Say?, this will take a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2018-12-25 09:17:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12032868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinosuke/pseuds/Shinosuke
Summary: Like a king in his castle he strode back to the microphone, unfolding the paper and hesitated for a moment when he read the name, as if he wasn’t sure how to pronounce it. The whole crowd seemed frozen in time until Richard finally spoke.“Blue Sargent.”, he read out loud and a murmur rolled through the people of district 12. Adam turned his head to the oldest girls still in the game, where a small girl already stepped out of her area. She wore a dress that looked like it had once been at least four dresses, her dark, spikey hair pushed down to her head with a ribbon, as blue as her name.“Now, for the boys.”, Richard said and stepped over to the left ball. Adam’s stomach turned, the sting in his chest grew colder. Richard's hand dove into the glass ball, dug around a few times for good measure until he brought it back up, holding a neatly folded piece of paper.“Adam Parrish.”, Richard announced gleefully





	1. Reaping Day

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I blame this AU on my friend Ritsu. She prompted this to me the same time as the mermaid-one I'm also still working on, so I'll divide my time between those two fics from now on. Chances are high I'll finish at least one of them ;)
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this, I'll probably add a few tags along the way.

It was the year he had turned 18. The last year his name was in the game. The year he would be chosen as a tribute.

Adam knew that without a doubt as he stood with the very few other boys his age on the open area on the reaping day. He wore his best shirt -his father’s best shirt, to be honest- and a pair of pants his mother had cleaned just for today. She had also combed his hair back, tried to make it look presentable, make **him**  look presentable. For almost a year now, she had avoided looking him in the eyes and she hadn’t broken with that today, when she cleaned him up. _“Mom?”_ , he had tried, one last time, but she had only sucked in a breath, taken a step back and told him that he was _“Ready to go.”_

And so he had left. He knew the drill: Get in line, sign up, get in line, wait. The stage looked so out of place here, decorated with the emblem of the Capitol and colorful flowers, that Adam knew didn’t even grow in district 12. His gaze lingered on the glass balls propped up on slender podiums, so everyone got a good look at them. The left was significantly fuller than the right, he noticed. He knew, why and it stung him in the chest, so he drew his eyes from them and looked down. Only now did he see that his hands were shaking. Adam curled them into fists and willed them to stop. No fear, he reminded himself.

The roped areas slowly filled, even though the one Adam was standing in, stayed empty enough that he didn’t touch any of the guys surrounding him. There were not many boys who made it to the age of 18. Some of them had their names seven times in the ball this year. Some of them more, when they bought tesserae with it, like most of them did. Adam knew of a guy called Hunt, whose name was in the ball 37 times this year. He would not be picked.

From the corner of his eyes, Adam saw kids and young adults turning their heads, looking for their parents, siblings, friends. Adam didn’t look. He knew, his parents were somewhere in the crowd -they had to be, if they didn’t want to be executed-, he had no siblings -thankfully- and he didn’t have any close friends he felt like looking out for. What good would it be?

Music started playing, the Capitol’s anthem, and Adam looked up. The mayor of district 12 entered the stage, followed by three mostly younger men: Krash Haster, a worn man who had won the games 32 years ago at the age of 14, Noah Czerny, the only other winner district 12 had ever had, looking the least alive Adam had ever seen anyone still walking around, and Richard Campbell Gansey the Third, who stepped up to the microphone at the front of the stage, the warmest, most endearing smile on his lips, if it weren’t for the rest of him. Everything about him, from his colored, dark red hair to his bright, mismatched clothing, screamed “I am from the highest circles in the Capitol” and Adam loathed everything about him -except his eyes. He wore colored contacts that changed every year, but they never changed the wholeheartedly genuine expression his eyes had.

“Welcome!”, Richard greeted into the microphone. His voice was powerful, but soft. When he had first heard it, Adam had really believed that he actually welcomed them. “Welcome, dear citizens, to the 84th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor!” There was a last rearing of the music, perfectly settling around Richard’s dramatic voice. Adam could picture him speaking in front of enchanted audiences in the Capitol.

“Without further ado, let us start the Reaping, to see, which young man and woman will be gifted the high honor of representing district 12 in this year’s Hunger Games.” Adam could see it, he did really think of it as an honor. He wanted to vomit.

“Ladies first.”, Richard announced and stepped over to the right glass ball. His hand dove in, dug around a few times for good measure until he brought it back up, holding a neatly folded piece of paper. Like a king in his castle he strode back to the microphone, unfolding the paper and hesitated for a moment when he read the name, as if he wasn’t sure how to pronounce it. The whole crowd seemed frozen in time until Richard finally spoke.

“Blue Sargent.”, he read out loud and a murmur rolled through the people of district 12. Adam turned his head to the oldest girls still in the game, where a small girl already stepped out of her area. She wore a dress that looked like it had once been at least four dresses, her dark, spikey hair pushed down to her head with a ribbon, as blue as her name. Adam knew her from school, he considered her something close to a friend and it made him sad to see her walk up to the stage. Two Peacekeepers came up beside her, but Blue pushed them to the side.

“I can walk on my own just fine!”, she spat at them. She didn’t look remotely surprised to be chosen as a tribute. Richard watched her ascend the steps and clapped his hands for her, only the mayor joined him.

“Congratulations, Blue.”, he said, with a smile, that must have made Blue want to punch him. Adam could see it in her eyes. And in the way she had her tiny, strong hands in fists by her side, making an obvious effort to keep them there.

“Just get on with this, so everyone can go home.”, she growled, just far enough from the microphone, but still clear to understand from Adams spot in the front row. He allowed himself a short smile. She was a fighter, he had always liked that about her.

Richard didn’t so much as flinch, he had been told worse last year, when a 15 year-old had yelled at him and had to be restrained by the Peacekeepers. He took a deep breath and continued.

“Now, for the boys.”, he said and stepped over to the left ball. Adam’s stomach turned, the sting in his chest grew colder. For the past seven years, he had supported his parents with the help of the tesserae he bought. It had earned him 28 pieces of paper with his names on them in the glass ball. This was the last year he had been able to do that and his father had caught on to that soon after last year’s reaping. Adam had become his most important source of income, buying tesserae to afford grain and oil, some of which he kept, some of which he traded at the Hob. Once, Robert had been caught by the Peacekeepers for his trades and Adam had used the tokens to bribe a Peacekeeper. His mother’s wish. _They were a family, right?_ , she had told him. _They had to take care of each other._ He had learned at a young age, that this didn’t include him, when his father needed an outlet.

All this had led to 128 reaping entries for him. There was no way he would survive this.

“Adam Parrish.”, Richard announced gleefully. Adam exhaled long and slowly. It felt like his last breath of freedom, although he was old enough to know that in his life, he had never been free. Slowly the boys around him stepped away from him and made his way to the roped corridor that led to the stage. Two Peacekeepers joined his sides and unlike Blue, he didn’t push them away. He kept his head down, avoided any eye-contact and stopped beside Richard, who was eyeing him excitedly. A short look told him that Blue stared straight into the crowd, while Richard took both their hands and held them up -pulling Blue to stand on her toes, while he couldn’t get Adam to completely stretch out his arm as he was smaller than Adam. He hoped it looked weird on tv.

They were escorted into the Justice Building, where they waited for their families to tell them Goodbye. Adam knew his parents wouldn’t come. He didn’t want them to.

When someone did knock on the door, he thought it would be time to leave for the train, so he stood up and walked towards the door, that opened, just before he reached it. “Mrs Sargent.”, he said confusedly.

Maura closed the door behind her and looked at him. “Truly a tribute, aren’t you, Adam?”, she established, more than that she asked. He didn’t have to ask how she knew. Everyone in District 12 had heard of the psychic women that lived together in Maura Sargent’s house.

He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”, he answered politely. “Are you here to ask me to protect your daughter?”

“She’d win those horrible games just to come back and jump at me just for that, if I did.”, Maura said with a tone to her voice that Adam filed somewhere between worry and pride. “No. I’m not here to ask something. You have been asked for enough, don’t you think?”

Adam averted his eyes. He was not supposed to talk bad about his family, which meant he wasn’t supposed to talk about his family at all.

Half a minute passed, valuable last seconds Maura could have spent with her daughter, he knew. Maura moved to close the distance between them and pulled Adam into a hug he was definitely not expecting. He was taken aback enough not to try to defend himself and the thought of never returning here anyways pushed him into leaning into her for just a moment.

“Keep your head up in there, Kid.”, she told him, as she pulled away.

He didn’t know where this was coming from, he had never been close to her, had only met her a few very brief times, but still here she was, comforting him.

“Thank you.”, he said, his voice hoarse and silent.

Maura nodded and before she could answer or Adam could actually ask her what was going on, the door opened again -without being knocked this time- and two Peacekeepers entered to guide Adam to the train. Calla, Maura's husband and Blue already waited outside when Maura left the room, followed by Adam. She passed her daughter, pulled her into a last, short hug before she stood with her friends, while Adam caught up to Blue and they followed the Peacekeepers down the corridor. From the corner of his eye, he caught Blue looking at him like she was afraid he’d throw up any second. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to understand and took his hand. For as long they could, she wanted them to stay friends.


	2. On the train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine.”, she just said. “Let’s make them all cry.”
> 
> “That’s the spirit.”, Noah commented, almost proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I think about this chapter's summary, the less it's a teasing, catchy quote. It's more like ... a promise.  
> For the rest of this fic.  
> *kiss-emoji*

“Alright, take a seat, you two.”, Richard said, his arms wide open in a welcoming gesture. Adam and Blue had followed him through the train, still holding hands. Adam might have enjoyed it under different circumstances, but in here, with their destination on his mind, he couldn’t. He was only aware of how it was very warm in the train and how Blue’s skin was very warm and how their hands were starting to sweat.

Adam let his gaze wander, this train was a whole new world and he was not yet sure if he liked it. He knew he was supposed to. This was what the Capitol had and what everyone in every district wanted: Wealth. Pure and incomprehensible wealth. Adam took every shiny surface in, every reflecting stone. He breathed in what smelled like flowers -none he had ever smelled nor seen, but his brain instantly provided him with the images. Nothing in here smelled like 12 and that should be something, that Adam liked, but did he? It was all just so … much.

His eyes found Richard again. He, too, was so very much. His hair looked like it had been carved from an incredibly red tree by a particularly skilled artist, if his shirt had been a plant, Adam would have been sure it would be poisonous and his pants matched his hair color more than anything else he was wearing. Compared to Adam in his very worn grey shirt and Blue in her obviously hand-sewn dress, Richard looked like he belonged here.

Blue must have come to a similar conclusion, she looked like she wanted to stab him. Adam pressed her hand briefly before he let her go to pull back a chair, while Blue did the same. They sat down, Adam now fiddled awkwardly with the seam of his shirt, Blue slid both hands into pockets nobody had even realized her dress had.

“By all means, you don’t have to hold back in front of me. If anything, we can work with a tragic lovestory between the tributes.”

Now Blue looked like she was seriously considering stabbing Richard. Adam took the neatly placed knife and fork in front of her out of her reach. “We’re not-“, he started, Blue didn’t let him finish.

“That’s all we are to you, right?”, she hissed. Adam could have mistaken her for a mountain lion if the anger in her voice had been his only clue. “A tragic lovestory? Potentially. Something you can feed your hungry audience back home in Candy-Land?”

Noah’s strange snort came from an otherworldly comfortable-looking couch with velvet cushions bigger than Adam’s bed. He didn’t sound genuinely amused, but exhausted. “I like her.”, he said and his voice was so soft that Adam almost didn’t catch it. There were rumors that Noah only talked during the games, when he had to, since his victory seven years ago and hearing him now seemed proof enough to Adam. Noah sounded like he could use some practice. But then again, Adam thought, he was in no position to judge, so he wouldn’t.

Blue turned away from Adam and Richard to shoot Noah a glare, Adam knew, but when she turned back around, her face was a little softer. She liked him back, it appeared.

“I am sorry. Of course, you are more than just a story to sell to the masses and -even more important: the sponsors.” Adam sighed, next to him murderous Blue was back. “I understand that this is-“

Blue jumped up, sending her undoubtedly expensive chair flying back. “You understand!? Tell me, rich boy from the fucking Capitol, what part of this exactly do you understand? Is it the not-having-a-choice-part? The at-least-one-of-us-will-be-dead-soon-part? The-“

“Please, stop.”, Richard tried. He graciously rose from his chair as well, lifting his hands carefully in a way Adam had seen people do when they tried to calm an aggressive stray dog on the streets. “I really didn’t mean to arrogate. All of this must be very overwhelming for you and-“

This time, Adam was the one to cut him off. “Please stop talking…”, he pleaded, suddenly very tired.

Again, Noah made a sound that could have been a laugh once. Richard looked at him, a healthy amount of desperation in his eyes. “Would you mind taking my side and help me out a little here, Noah?”, he asked and Adam was reminded, that Richard had not been doing this for very long. He was only a few years older than they were and had only started taking care of District 12 three years ago. Still, his sympathy was limited.

“Yes, I would.”, Noah simply said and Adam found, he liked him, too.

Richard took a deep breath and straightened himself. “Look. For as long as this lasts, I want you two to enjoy this experience.”

Blue let out a frustrated scream and Adam made no attempt to calm her down. He didn’t feel like screaming, but he liked her for doing it. She had so much spirit in her. A spirit, that he had lost around the time when his father had told him to “at least make good use of that name of his” last year. That last year ago, Adam maybe would have jumped at Richard’s throat the same way Blue did, for ripping him away from his home, from the chance of a better life, from the chance of living at all, because Adam was as sure of his chances in the arena as he had been of his chances during the Reaping.

He froze at this realization, while Blue went on about how Richard even dared. Adam had given up and that frightened him more than anything had so far this day. He used to be a fighter, used to aim for something more. He used to think about strategies while watching the Games, used to imagine himself in the arena and how he would survive. He had given up on that and something in Blue’s very reasonable anger unlocked something in him again.

This was not how he wanted his story to end. This was not how he wanted the world to see him, now that -for the first time in his life- they would.

“Maybe, we should do it.”, he said, cutting Blue off mid-sentence. Both, Richard and Blue looked at him, as well as Noah, who seemed less confused than the others.

“Do what?”, Blue asked, her voice still loud and angry.

“Be the tragic lovestory.”, Adam explained. “Think about it: The higher districts are underdogs. Every year. We know our tributes, because we have actually met them, but do you remember the name of last year’s tributes? Or the year before that?” He gave her time to answer, but she didn’t. “Me neither.”, he continued. “We could make a lasting impression and Richard is right.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Richard flinch. He was probably scared Blue would attack him again for just being right, even if was Adam, who pointed that out. “We need sponsors, if we want one of us to go back home.”

She didn’t so much as look at Richard. “So you want to lie? You want to make an impression so bad that you would fake a tragic lovestory?” She sounded disgusted and Adam wasn’t surprised. He just shrugged.

“Everyone lies. Especially during the Hunger Games. If we could, we would all just blow up the Capitol while we’re there.” Richard almost choked on the sharp breath he sucked in. “But we don’t. We let them put fancy outfits on us and we smile, so they like us. So they help us. We can either play and win by the rules or we die fighting them. We could play them as much as they’re playing us here. One of us could go home, if we work as a team.”

“Only for so long. What then?”, Blue asked, a little calmer, even if she still obviously wasn’t happy about how right he was.

“Then we’ll figure something out.” He held her gaze, while she tried to stare him down, testing, how much of this he actually believed.

“I think, that-“

“Zip it, Richard, I don’t care.”, she snapped without even looking at him. Adam started to think she would refuse to look at him until they went into the arena.

“But-“

“Dick, let them figure this out.”, Noah jumped in. It was impressive, hearing him actually shut Richard up with his thin voice. This time, Adam was sure he had misunderstood him over the engine of the train. “It’s their lives, not yours.”, he reminded him and Adam heard how much he wanted it to be true.

Blue had not taken her focus away from Adam. He only looked back. If she didn’t want to do this, he couldn’t on his own. They would probably both fly below the judges’ and the sponsors’ radars, but it would be their decision. That was all they could do.

Finally, Blue turned around and flopped down on Adam’s lap, her own chair still on the impeccable floor. It wasn’t a conscious decision to put an arm around her waist, it just happened.

“Fine.”, she just said. “Let’s make them all cry.”

“That’s the spirit.”, Noah commented. Blue seemed to lift his spirits, too.

Richard smiled broadly. “Wonderful!”, he announced and Adam felt Blue tense up. She really hated him… “Alright, before we continue to start off on the wrong foot, how would you feel about lunch? You both sure look like you could eat something-“ Blue whispered something into Adam’s left ear; if not for the tickle of her breath against his skin, he wouldn’t have noticed. “-and I prefer not to strategize on an empty stomach. I suggest, you two go to your rooms and get dressed and then we eat something.”

“Sounds like a plan.”, Adam agreed before Blue could start another argument. For the first time today, he felt hungry.

Blue got to her feet, Adam followed, when Richard started talking again. “Oh, and by the way.”, he started, looking almost shy and definitely uncomfortable. “Please call me Gansey.”, he said, like normal people would offer their nicknames. ‘ _Hey, my name is Christopher, but you can call me Chris.’_

Adam cocked an eyebrow, Blue was faster to speak both their minds. “Usually it’s the other way around, you know?”

“Pardon?”

“Usually, people call you by your last name until you offer your first one. Is that a Capitol-thing? Being weird and extra? Don’t answer that.”, she added when Gansey actually started answering. Noah assisted.

“No, it’s more of a “He doesn’t want you to call him Dick”-kind of thing.”, he provided.

Adam didn’t understand. “Why would we?”

Gansey looked defeated. “It’s a common short form for Richard. Wait, is it not, in District 12? What do you call it at home?”, he asked.

Blue and Adam exchanged a look, then they both looked at Noah, who just shrugged in an apologetic, ‘just go with it’-kind of way.

“No one is called Richard in District 12.”, Blue finally answered. “And now I know, why.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I really enjoy Bluesey xDD But it was SO HARD to call him Richard! Jesus, I had to delete "Gansey" quiet a few times here xDD
> 
> Up next, a little briefing on some of the other tributes. You excited? :D


	3. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue made a few steps towards him, treading unsurely on heels longer than her neck.
> 
> “Are you sure those are meant to be walked in and are not your first weapons for the arena? They look kinda lethal.”, he mused. He couldn’t help but marvel at how strong she was. She acted just like he knew her from school, while he felt like a completely different person had entered the train in his place.
> 
> Blue snorted bitterly. “We’ll see about that, when I kill Richard with them at dinner.” Adam laughed, which startled him just a moment later. He sat next to Blue on the bed, a silence fell over them that tensed with every second. After what felt like a whole history-lesson worth of time, she slowly laid her head on his shoulder. “Should we really fake a relationship?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, alright... First of all: I'm back! After vacation and a shitload of personal stuff, I finally finished another chapter. I'm sorry, I teased a briefing on the other tributes and it will come! Obviously! But not in this chapter ^^° This kind of went it's own way and I felt like the briefing should be separated, so that's what I did.

Adam and Blue both had a room of their own. In just the short time of them getting into a few fights with Gansey, someone had picked clothes for them to wear for when they entered the Capitol, and put them on their beds. Adam stopped in the smooth automatic door and couldn’t keep himself from marveling at the room. It seemed almost as big as his parents’ home, the bed alone could have never fit into his own room.

Slowly, he started towards the bed. The smooth movements of the train were not enough to challenge his balance, but seeing all of this first hand was so unreal, that Adam had some difficulties, taking it all in. He only knew for sure, how much he envied the people in the Capitol, like Gansey, who acted like all of this, the polished surfaces, the shiny edges, the soft fabrics, was normal. He hated how, for some people, it actually was.

He ran his rough, scarred fingers over the silk of the bedsheets, almost shied away from a fabric that felt like a liquid. The bright colours only added to the impression of all this being some weird parallel world, very unlike his own, where everything was washed out, faded and dirty. Neither him, nor Blue were colourful enough for this world, he mused. They didn’t belong here and he doubted, the button down and the slacks someone had prepared for him, would change it even the slightest. Of course, he thought, it fitted better than any of his own clothes. Way better than his father’s old shirt he had been wearing for the reaping. It was a bright green and the softest piece of clothing he had ever touched. There was not even one loose thread on it, not one spot on the brown pants. Adam felt the urge to wash his hands before touching something so evidently new…

With the new clothes on, he stepped in front of the mirror. A stainless, clear surface, that made his face look strange. Not right. Not the way he was used to it. With a hint of disbelief, he leaned in a little bit more and inspected the foreign face staring back at him. He studied the cheeks, that looked so much hollower than Gansey’s did, covered in faint freckles. They looked like dirt and sometimes, when he washed up after a shift in the bakery where he sometimes got to work, he would find small spots of dark flour among the freckles. He could never be sure, which of the spots would wash away with the water and which would stay. For a moment he rubbed at his cheek, halfheartedly expecting some of the freckles to come off.

Adam’s eyes shot up to meet themselves in the mirror. He had never expected them to be so bright. They were several shades lighter than they seemed to be in the old, dirty mirror in his parents’ bathroom.  They looked different from Blue’s, when he thought about it. She had looked fierce, her eyes dark and strong. His looked more like Gansey’s. The thought had a bitter taste, but he couldn’t shake it. Now that he clearly saw the dark shadows around his eyes, he remembered similar ones around Gansey’s. What did a man from the Capitol have to lose sleep over? Adam felt he didn’t care. He couldn’t. Whatever it was, that kept Gansey awake to leave marks around his eyes, it was entirely his problem. Adam had his own.

Slowly his eyes left the strange face, wandering to the strange shirt. To the strange pants. It was harder than he cared to admit, to believe, truly believe, that this young man in the mirror, was not someone else. He didn’t belong into all this brightness, into this clean world. He came from the dirt and he would return there -one way or another.

A knock on the door made Adam turn away from the mirror, that seemed more like a window to a different reality. Blue had already opened the door to his room and was now eyeing him with a wild mashup of disbelief, judgement and amusement, as far as Adam could tell. He was not sure, which of those was worst.  
She entered the room and closed the door behind her and only then did Adam notice that her doubtlessly handpuzzled dress had changed into a wondrously elegant jumpsuit in a colour that Adam would associate with liquid gold. He had seen jumpsuits and overalls in District 12, usually work-garments, he owned one himself for his job at the mines, but never had he seen something he would describe as a piece of clothing in the same style as elegant. Until now. Blue made a few steps towards him, treading unsurely on heels longer than her neck.

“Ugh, these are impossible! People in the Capitol are insane!”, she complained, then she threw herself on his bed, skipping at least two steps.

“Are you sure those are meant to be walked in and are not your first weapons for the arena? They look kinda lethal.”, he mused. He couldn’t help but marvel at how strong she was. She acted just like he knew her from school, while he felt like a completely different person had entered the train in his place.

Blue snorted bitterly. “We’ll see about that, when I kill Richard with them at dinner.” Adam laughed, which startled him just a moment later. He sat next to Blue on the bed, a silence fell over them that tensed with every second. After what felt like a whole history-lesson worth of time, she slowly laid her head on his shoulder. “Should we really fake a relationship?”, she asked, her voice softer and more serious now, and Adam felt the air shifting around them. The moment felt different from before. Almost a little intimate.

_Adam remembered a day, when he had hesitated to go home after school more than usual. He would wander around, as far as he legally could and one day, Blue had accompanied him. She hadn’t asked where he was going, he hadn’t asked why she was coming along. There had been bruises on his wrists, small cuts on his knuckles, that he’d seen her gaze flicker over a few times, but she hadn’t said anything until they were turning back and ended up in front of her house. He was just about to say goodbye and finally walk home. “Adam?”, she had asked and he had waited. He had always known the looks. Pity, worry… In Blue’s eyes, there had been something, no other kid or even a grown-up had shown him. A kind of worship, something that made him feel like more than a mistake. “You deserve better, you know?” It had been a simple, small question, but it had made Adam realize something: No, he hadn’t known._

With Blue slouched against his side, her head still heavy on his shoulder, this moment felt as intimate as that question so many years ago. It was just between the two of them, not meant for anybody else. “Why not?”, he asked with a careful indifference. “Would you rather fake-date Gansey?”

She elbowed him, he flinched. Physical violence between friends, no matter how good-natured it might be, was completely beyond him.

“Not over my dead body. And are we seriously calling him Gansey now? That’s such a weird-ass name!”

“Look, who’s talking.”, Adam mumbled, Blue almost hit him again, but stopped herself just in time. She took a deep breath.

“I’m serious. I mean… Apart from the ‘I don’t want to fake something neither of us may ever actually have’-part and the ‘Fuck them, I don’t want to be part of their stupid entertainment’… What if they don’t buy it?” She lifted her head to look at him. “It’s supposed to make them like us, right? To get us sponsors and therefore an advantage in the arena, but what if they see right through it? Wouldn’t they be crazy mad?”

Adam considered this and he agreed. There was a chance the people in the Capitol would not fall for their story and then? Then they would be the manipulative, desperate assholes from twelve, that tried to cheat their way through the games. They would rank at the end of every list, no one would even consider helping them in the arena. But on the other hand…

“What do we have to lose?”, Adam asked, leaning away from her a little. “We are the underdogs. We both know I’m not a fighter and in case you have a particularly handy skillset you’ve never told me about, then -no offense- we’ll both get pretty low rankings anyway, so we might just as well try to test our luck.”

“Our luck?”, Blue scoffed. “Look around, Adam, luck is not what I would be relying on.”

He shrugged, but said nothing. She had to know he was right.

“Also, you’re wrong.”, she said to his surprise.

“Huh?”

“About… You know… I do have -what was that? A particularly handy skillset.”, she explained. Adam raised his eyebrows in sceptic disbelief, which Blue didn’t appreciate. “You’re an ass, Adam Parrish. Don’t look at me like that, I’m more than meets the eye and I trusted you of all people to know that.”

Adam swallowed his surprise and exchanged the critical look on his face with an embarrassed one. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s go to dinner. I’m in the mood to stab someone with those heels and it better be Dick and not you.”, she said and pushed herself to her feet. Adam raised, too, unsure if she would kill him if he tried to steady her. She was still mad at him, he thought, if she had changed her mind about telling him her skills. He had to admit, he was pretty curious.

While he followed Blue out of his room to the dining wagon, he couldn’t help but think about his own skills. How would he fight his way through the games? Years of taking his father’s blows and kicks had made him a useless fighter, he knew that. Or, he assumed it. He had avoided any kind of violence whatsoever as much as he could, thereby limiting his experience to his domestic life. Would he be able to fight anyone else, someone his own age or most likely younger, when it came down to it?

He knew how it worked, knew where he had to punch, knew where it hurt most. He knew first hand. He also knew that it was the hunger games. There was no room for pacifism, but his morals were not the problem. What he didn’t know was: Would he be able to fight back, after years of knowing that fighting back would make everything undoubtedly and infinitely worse? Whenever his father had punished Adam for coming home late, for not doing enough, for not being anything but a mistake, Adam could only try not to let his father kill him. He would protect his face, his stomach, as much as he could, but he would never try to fight back. His mind and body would just shut down and channel all the energy he had into “survival”. It was a trained instinct, that could save his life back at home, but probably would cost it in the arena.

So fighting his way through the games was out of the question. His mind flipped through all the broadcasts he’d seen over the years, all the different approaches, all the winning strategies. To his disappointment, the last years had been dominated by Careers, armed to the teeth and bloodthirsty to the core, but there had been tributes who made it pretty far without fighting by hiding, using the arena to their advantage, but he would depend on what kind of an arena they’d be thrown into, which was not as encouraging as he’d need it to be. He hated depending on the circumstances. He hated depending on anything, for all that mattered.

There also was the problem of him not being able to properly hear. His damaged ear still affected his balance, when it came to movements beyond everyday life and it was a particular disadvantage when it came to securing the perimeter. He couldn’t locate sounds and would not be able to hear anyone sneak up to him from that side, which was a terrible disadvantage. The only good thing was how nobody knew about it and he would do what he could to keep it that way. There was virtually no way of letting sponsors know, but not the other tributes and even if there was: He could not bear to rely on their pity. Lying to them about being in love, making himself and Blue more attractive for sponsors was different. It was fighting them with their own weapons, playing them with their own rules, but preying on their pity? He wouldn’t do that.

If -after all- they would pity him. Maybe it would make him even less attractive for them, because his chances were even lower than those of District twelve kids usually were.

An unfamiliar smell pulled him from his train of thoughts into the highspeed real world one they were inside of. His mind told him, it must have been food, even if he’d never smelled something like that. As much as he hated to admit this: It smelled good…

Gansey was already seated at a table that looked like it was close to collapsing under all the food stacked upon it. Adam saw fruits even more colourful than Gansey’s horrible orange and green dinner jacket, puffy pastry that was too smooth to be bread, all kinds of terrifyingly shiny food Adam had never seen in his life and more meat than all of District 12 would consume in on year, he assumed. It looked unreal, some of it looked dangerous, but it smelled incredibly tasty. His stomach let out a long, desperate howl, which earned him Gansey’s full attention and a generous smile. Like he had personally helped advising someone to make all of this. He probably had and was probably very proud of it.

“Sit. Sit, you two!”, Gansey motioned to their empty seats excitedly with his inviting smile. Blue looked at him in a way that made Adam fear she would actually find out how lethal her shoes were.

“I’m not a dog!”, she growled and Adam couldn’t help but think a dog would be easier to handle.

“I wasn’t trying to-“ Adam felt a little bad for Gansey. Not enough to actually step in and do something about it, but he felt a little less content watching him getting torn a new one by Blue.

“Listen up, Dick!”

“Please don’t call me that…”, he pleaded hurtfully, not that Blue stopped ranting to listen to him.

“We” She gestured vigorously between the two tributes. “are not your dogs-“

“I didn’t-“

“your toys-“

“I never-“

“or your fucking entertainment, did I make myself clear? So make one more stupid-ass comment, you walking block of hair-gel, and I’m gonna throw you out of this train with my own hands, you got that? I dare you!” She glared at him with enough fury to scare even Adam. Gansey held her gaze, which served to impress Adam a little. He was sure that he wouldn’t have, had it been him in Gansey’s place.

The silence was tense and felt static, until Blue broke the eyecontact to finally take a seat. She managed to do even that in an angry kind of way.

Then Gansey did the most stupid thing and opened his mouth again. “I don’t use hair-gel, you know?”, he said with a tone in his voice Adam couldn’t quite put his finger on. Was he embarrassed? He definitely was scared and careful, but that wasn’t all of it. It sounded almost like an apology. Like he was saying “I’m sorry” just with the worst words he could possibly find.

Blue’s head shot up again, her death-glare fixed on Gansey. “Do I look like **that’s** the point here?! Seriously?!” Adam couldn’t believe it, when he saw that Gansey was actually going to answer that question.

In the exact same moment that Adam grabbed at Blue’s hand to keep her from physically harming Gansey, Noah appeared out of nowhere next to Gansey, one of the bigger pastries in his hand, which he stuffed into Gansey’s open mouth. He also used the surprised silence his action had earned him from Blue, to try to defuse her.

“Look… I know you’re upset with all this. And not in his way, I know it because I’ve been there, right?”, he said, his voice barely more than a calm whisper, which had its own magic to it. Its own power and it did the trick: Blue listened. “And as hard as it to believe, this guy-“ He patted Gansey on the shoulder, who started coughing on the pastry, that seemed to have expanded in Gansey’s mouth and that he showed immense difficulties to chew on. “is not the one to be mad at. Sure, he’s … requiring getting used to, I give you that, and he says an awful lot of stuff he doesn’t actually mean-“ Adam started worrying Gansey might choke on the pastry at that point, while Noah continued. Blue ignored this completely and cocked an eyebrow at Noah’s words. “but that’s just his weird Capitol-brain, telling him to speak before thinking. Please don’t take everything he says as an insult, you’ll live a happier life. Trust me.”, he finished.

Suddenly, Adam was reminded, that Noah was doing this with Gansey every year since Gansey had taken over District twelve.

“So, please don’t kill him, okay?”

Blue eyed Gansey who started looking a little blue himself. “I won’t promise.”, she said.

“But you’ll try?”, Noah insisted.

She tried to stare him down, but he looked like the death rays from her eyes went right through him. “Fine.”, she finally gave in.

“Wonderful!”, Noah cheered and patted Gansey on the back hard enough for him to spit half the pastry back on his plate and gasp for air. He excused himself as soon as he had caught his breath enough, to get himself another plate and get rid of that deathtrap of a pastry.

Adam’s eyes followed him. “Please tell me you don’t do that every year.”, he said.

“Please tell me, you _do_.”, Blue responded.

Noah chuckled silently. “Seriously, he’s a good guy. He was just born rich, that ruins people.”

“Obviously.”, Blue said, the exact same moment Adam said “Ironic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I love Blue and Gansey. A lot.  
> Any ideas on Blue's particularly handy skillset? ê.ê Let me know xD
> 
> Next chapter will contain information on the other tributes, I promise xD And it won't take me so long, I hope ;)  
> Thank you all for your feedback, it's amazing and really keeps me going at all, thank you! <3


	4. The volunteer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gansey swiped across the remote control to start the tv. “Alright, let’s get going. They sent us the recording of the different reapings, so we can take a look at what you’re up against. It doesn’t help much to get a real strategy, I mean, they’re going to show as many of their skills as you did at your reaping, but it’s nice to, you know, get a first look.”
> 
> “Skip the pep-talk, let’s just get this over with.”, Blue groaned.
> 
> “Sorry.”, Gansey said. It sounded like a reflex. “Okay, let’s start with District 1.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while, and sadly, it took longer than I wanted it to, but you know, life happened and I hope I'm back xD
> 
> This was one of the scenes I wanted to write the most~ We finally, finally get to meet some other tributes!

They sat in front of an obscenely big tv. Gansey had a plate of what looked like chocolate on his lap, Adam couldn’t even look at it for more than a couple of seconds. Neither he, nor Blue had ever eaten that much food at one meal, they were full and for the first time in a while not hungry anymore. For now, Adam couldn’t say he liked it, he was feeling surprisingly miserable about not wanting to eat. Luckily, Noah had thought to hand them both some kind of tea that eased their stomachs, while they all settled in ridiculously comfortable armchairs. The smooth leather sounded alive in Adam’s ear, which made him wary at every movement. Not that he felt like moving right now.

Gansey swiped across the remote control to start the tv. “Alright, let’s get going. They sent us the recording of the different reapings, so we can take a look at what you’re up against. It doesn’t help much to get a real strategy, I mean, they’re going to show as many of their skills as you did at your reaping, but it’s nice to, you know, get a first look.”

“Skip the pep-talk, let’s just get this over with.”, Blue groaned. The more she had eaten, the less energy did she have to snap at Gansey, but the tea seemed to bring her spirit back.

“Sorry.”, Gansey said. It sounded like a reflex. “Okay, let’s start with District 1.”

Adam could’ve sworn he had heard Blue mumble “Predictable”, but he might have easily mistaken that.

They watched wordlessly how the first female career volunteered, a girl with a generic face that neither of them had any concrete feelings about. Adam noticed how full her body looked, compared to his or Blue’s. She was not only well nourished, but also apparently very well in shape. It was not much of a surprise, she had the body of a career after all and he had expected that.

What he had not expected was how little he felt about seeing that girl that would in a few days mercilessly try to kill him. He had thought he would hate her. Fear her, maybe. But he didn’t. Watching her today felt like watching all the other tributes throughout the years. It didn’t feel real, it didn’t feel like it concerned him.

Then, they called out for the boys and a voice answered, that immediately chased this otherworldly feeling away and sent a chill down Adam’s spine, that made him physically shudder.

“Step aside, fuckers! I volunteer!”, snared a pale boy of Adam’s age. His dark hair was slicked back with some kind of grease, his shirt was half open, his face was that of a skinny dog, whose territory you had accidently stepped on. He strode to the stage like he was about to be pronounced mayor, but couldn’t care less. The hairs on Adam’s neck stood up alert, all his instincts reacted to the boy, they screamed “danger” in every way possible. He wanted to check Blue’s reaction, wanted to know if she had a similar feeling about him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen.

“A volunteer, wonderful.”, the middle-aged woman chirped, as if there weren’t always volunteers in District one. “Alright, what is your name?” The boy didn’t waste so much as a single look on her and she had to take a few ridiculously small steps to the side in her murderous highheels when he walked up to the microphone.

“Joseph Kavinsky.” He said it like it was a statement. A quality. Adam had the distinct feeling that, to him, it really was. Joseph brought three fingers up to his lips, but while he raised his hand into the air in a manner of salute, thumb on the pinky, the three middle stretched out, he turned his hand and curled two more fingers until he flipped his audience and the cameras the bird.

“What an asshole.”, Blue commented. Adam finally managed to look at her and Blue sat as tense as he did.

“He certainly does have a strong attitude.”, Gansey agreed. Out of the corner of the eyes, Adam saw Blue mockingly repeat his words with a disgusted mimic. He knew it was neither nice nor flattering, but at least he thought it was funny. It helped sooth the unsettling feeling about the career.

“But maybe that’s an act?”, Gansey went on. “Maybe he wants to provoke, to get the attention. With such disrespect, he most definitely got it.” Adam exchanged a look with Blue. He trusted his instincts about Joseph and they told him, that this had not been an act.

“I don’t think it was.”, Noah said, before Blue and Adam were done with their silent conversation. “Dick, you know how people in the Capitol hate being shown how very few tributes actually think it’s an honor. They won’t like that. They like interesting people, but they don’t like treated how they should be.”

Gansey looked insulted when Noah implied that he thought this behavior was appropriate against the people in his home, but had the surprising consideration not to say anything.

“You’re probably right, it wouldn’t be a clever strategy, but it would be a new one. I don’t think someone has already tried it. For obvious reasons, yes…”, Gansey admitted. “I’d say his attitude would make him an easier opponent, if he were from another district, but he’s a career, so you guys better stay away from him.”

“Stay away from the guys that will try to kill us, got it.”, Blue said with a mean bite to her voice. “Which, luckily, will only be all of them. Any other helpful tips?”

Adam saw Gansey open his mouth. “Let’s continue. District two.”, he said to prevent another fight.

“Yes. Right.”, Gansey said and played the next reaping. The girl from two looked pretty, Adam had to admit. Which made her seem even more dangerous than the girl from one, because she didn’t actually _look_ dangerous. She had long blonde hair that fell in smooth waves down her back, it was fascinating to watch when she moved. When she got on stage to say her name, she wore a smile that you could probably put on a poster without further editing.

The career from two was a guy who’s first name Adam couldn’t pronounce if he tried, even for his last name “Prokopenko”, he would need two tries. He looked surprisingly slender for a career. He looked like someone, Adam could maybe even take on, physically.

It was the reaping of District three, that got their interests first. It went down different from the first two, given that the third district usually didn’t have volunteers. There were no careers in three, hardly anyone there risked their life on purpose, so tributes from District three tended to be younger than the full-grown ones from one and two.

When the polished young woman in a sparkly dress announced a girl named Opal to be the first tribute, Adam and Blue both sucked in a soft breath of air. Noah looked sorrowful, Gansey for once, didn’t make a comment, while a girl from among the youngest ones present climbed up to the stage. She wore gumboots that looked a little too big, spikey blonde hair was pinned down by a dark cap that someone had hand-drawn a skull on. She didn’t look like most young girls during their reaping, whose mothers spent all day making them look presentable and sweet. There was one thing, she had in common with all the other tributes her age ever: She looked afraid.

Blue sighed heavily. “I hate the Capitol so much…”, she whispered and Adam agreed with a silent nod. He hated the Capitol, too, but there also was a wave of guilt flooding him. There had been two boys younger than him, the last years, who had been chosen as tributes for District twelve. He had hated the Capitol back then, but he had also thought “Thank god, not me.” And he knew he should feel bad for it.

Even now, looking at the shaking girl on the huge stage, her skirt clutched tight in tiny fists, as she pulled it closer around herself as if to shield herself from what was happening around her, he couldn’t help but think for a brief moment: “One enemy I don’t have to worry about.” It was his brain, taking on a pragmatic, logical voice and he knew, that technically, her age didn’t change a thing about the situation. She was as much an opponent as the other four before were, hell, she was as much of an opponent as Blue was. Blue, who sat right next to him, her stomach full, a disgusted expression on her face and probably something insulting right there on her lips.

“Now for the boys!”, the woman announced. She pulled a folded paper from a glass bowl that was not half as full as the one in District twelve had been, and went back to her microphone with it.

“Matthew Lynch.”, she read out loud, which was followed by a deep voice from among the crowd.

“Hell fucking no! I volunteer!”, the voice said, the cameras looked for its origin in the crowd. Another voice joined in.

“Ronan! No!”, a young man outside of the possible tributes yelled. The cameras had found the volunteer, a boy also Blue’s and Adam’s age probably, walked towards the stage. He pushed a peacekeeper out of his way, a blonde boy tried to follow him.

“Please, Ronan, don’t!”, the blonde boy was even taller than the one who volunteered. He reached the one he had called Ronan and held on to his wrists. Adam thought, the smaller one with the shaved head would just pull his arm away, but instead, he pulled the blonde boy into a tight, but very brief hug, then continued to the stage.

“Don’t do this!”, the young man yelled again, the tv cut to another camera that now showed a group of people, probably parents. Amidst them, there was that one man, that looked too young to be a parent, too old to be tribute. His clothing said he was arguably wealthy for someone who didn’t live in the Capitol, his expression said he was just now losing something beyond expensive. He looked pained, his eyes wild, while everything else about him appeared too calm for his age. He tried to move towards the stage, pushed people aside, relieved parents whose children were safe for another year, but was finally stopped by two peacekeepers. “Ronan!”

The boy in question didn’t even look back at him. He just stomped up on the stage, where the delighted woman rushed to greet him. She hesitated to touch him, her hands hovered over muscles that were hidden under a black shirt, but were clearly there, he followed her to the microphone. On his way, he put his hand on little Opal’s head for a moment, that didn’t go unnoticed by neither Adam, nor Blue.

“A volunteer, how exciting! Your name is Ronan, right?”, she asked him with a beaming smile.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”, he said and his eyes fixed on someone among the older kids. Probably Matthew. “Ronan Lynch.”

She clapped her hands and kept them together, swooning like Ronan had just announced his engagement, not accepted being a tribute and possibly dead pretty soon. “It take it then, that Matthew is your brother?”

Another nod. “Yes.”, he said. Adam noticed how Ronan’s hands were balled into fists. He didn’t look afraid like most kids did. He didn’t look as cunning as the careers did. Ronan Lynch looked furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so that's as far as the tv showed Ronan's reaping. That's not all there is to it, but that's all Adam and Blue get to see for now.
> 
> After this, let's get ready for some styling and a parade, shall we? ;)
> 
> Btw, I don't plan on putting actual OCs in this. Obviously, I have to, because I don't think there are 24 character under 18 I can use, but I won't bother with them too much and instead focus of the characters that we at least know names of, some of which we've gotten a glimps of in this chapter ;)
> 
> Also thank you a lot for your support! Your kudos and especially comments mean the world to me and keep me trying to make time for this in my ... chaotic schedule! Thank you!


	5. The make-over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were both taken away by their teams and Adam felt like a dirty dish, when the started to scrub District twelve off of him. He had cleaned himself for the reaping day. He had also washed up on the train, for the first time in his life with Capitol-soap, but apparently, it hadn’t been enough. “Would it ever?”, he caught himself thinking, while someone did their best to brush every last bit of the coalmines out from under his short fingernails, while someone else pulled at his hair, combing, washing, cutting, combing, washing again over and over.

They took their time talking about the tributes Adam and Blue would have to face, but the helpful conclusion usually was “This would be easier if we knew anything about their skills or the arena.”. There were only two more volunteers. The girl from four and a guy from seven, whose arms looked like he could pull a tree from the ground with nothing but the will to do so. Other than that, there were a lot of young tributes this year. Gansey had dared to call that luck, Blue had almost killed him with the tv’s remote, Noah had gently prevented her from actually doing so.

Now they laid in their respective beds and Adam tried to sleep. He couldn’t. This had only been the first day and it had all been so … much. He caught himself comparing everything he felt today, the hopelessness, the anger, the jealousy, the surprise, the fondness, to the food here on the train. It had been a lot, it had been new, it had been too much to taste and it had been too much to process. The sleepy sickness had passed, now he sat back up and looked out the dark window, where the homeland he had never been to flew by in a wild whirl of shadows.

He let everything happen in his mind again, skipped some parts, tried to recreate feelings he’d had trouble with, as well as feelings he wanted to savor, now knowing that his life was probably going to be over in a few days.

In the end, what stuck with him, were Maura’s hug, sitting on his bed with Blue by his side and watching that young man beg for Ronan Lynch not to volunteer. All three situations had left him with an uncalled for pull in his chest, that was comfort and jealousy. All three were wishes that he had never dared to make. Never out loud.

Adam was not a person to get lost in wishing. He was a person to choose one goal and then set out to achieve it and that usually didn’t work with feelings. It specifically didn’t work with other people’s feelings, so what was the point in wanting someone to make a run for the stage to come stop the peacekeepers from taking their son away? What was the point in wishing for someone to care about him enough to say goodbye to him, to maybe even miss him? What was the point in wanting Blue close to him? Nothing of that was in his hands, nothing of this was his choice.

He was ready to work hard, he had done so all his life, for a future outside of his parents’ home. He didn’t have the time or energy to wish and now, all he needed to focus on, was survival. Survival, as opposed to wishing, he was familiar with.

 

 

They arrived at the Capitol shortly after breakfast the next day. Neither Adam nor Blue could tear their eyes off of it, both just a hint of self-control away from pressing their noses against the train’s windows. It was as colorful as Adam had expected, but still took him aback. The shiny towers, oddly shaped buildings all had their way of showing very clearly, how the districts were to be kept in the shadows of this place, that shone brighter than the sun ever could.

People had come to greet them, to welcome them, no, to see them, Adam reminded himself. They were to be seen, not to feel good here. Gansey stood a few steps behind his tributes like a proud pet-owner. “Smile, you two. Don’t be shy.”, he advised them and even Blue was too distracted to jump him for it.

Adam was glad, that they were escorted right through the masses of staring, cheering and waving people. He felt like cattle. Very exotic cattle, which was easily contradicting how exotic and wild everyone around him looked and how bleached out black-and-white he felt. Next to all those colorful people, he and Blue looked like a sepia-photography from another century, even wearing the clothes they had been given on the train.

“Alright.”, Gansey exclaimed when they reached a large hangar with busy people buzzing around fairly dangerous-looking machinery. Adam thought he got a glimpse of another tribute, who was escorted by two women in some kind of lab-coats. He walked like they had taken him fresh out of a freezer… “You two will now be taken to your styling-teams and then your respective personal stylists. These people will take care of all the little-“

Noah slipped a hand over Gansey’s mouth and managed a reassuring smile. “They may be a little rough, but essentially, the stylists are usually quite accessible. They want to help you, even if it’s in a weird way.”, he explained, then he lowered his hand.

Gansey stared at him in shock and absolute disbelief. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you were doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”, Gansey asked, even more confused than the first time.

“ _That_ thing!”, Noah insisted and pointed to his mouth.

“What, talking?”

Noah sighed a theatrical, relieved sigh, that Blue took exceptional pleasure in. “Yes, exactly!”, he said with a proud grin, patting Blue on the shoulder like he was saying “You’re welcome”, which he probably was.

“Rude.”, Gansey commented.

“Oh, like you would know.”, Blue chimed in with more sass than he person her height should be able to contain for more than a word. Adam liked her.

 

 

They were both taken away by their teams and Adam felt like a dirty dish, when the started to scrub District twelve off of him. He had cleaned himself for the reaping day. He had also washed up on the train, for the first time in his life with Capitol-soap, but apparently, it hadn’t been enough. “Would it ever?”, he caught himself thinking, while someone did their best to brush every last bit of the coalmines out from under his short fingernails, while someone else pulled at his hair, combing, washing, cutting, combing, washing again over and over.

He didn’t look at the team, not after the first few minutes of disapproving looks on their faces. Not after catching bits and pieces of their conversations with his hearing ear. The flaws they discussed, the ideas they had to tackle them. From what Adam got, he was too thin for their liking -big surprise-, had to be polished again before they would send him to his stylist -big surprise- and that his color scheme and freckles were _so_ last season, to which he had almost actually responded, but none of the stylists looked like they even remembered their own natural haircolor.

For the rest of the procedure, Adam tried to keep his eyes closed and to focus on the static buzzing of various machines they used on him and other tributes close by, hidden behind curtains and thin, portable walls. It helped him tune out the chatting team, but it brought another problem. Something Adam never really had to face outside of his parents’ home, but he discovered that he took a strong dislike in too many hands on him. Rough hands, even more. Hands that held his arms and legs and head and hands and shoulders in place. Hands that pulled at hair and skin. Hands that brushed and rubbed and pressed. Time and time again he opened his eyes to ground himself. Focusing on something else than the weirdly shaped wigs and clothes and faces or the bright light he was laying under, but on the smooth chair he was in or the wrinkles in the gray curtain behind which he suspected Blue, based on a curse or swear now and then.

It didn’t help a lot, but it kept him in the present.

 

 

Finally he found himself sitting in room alone, waiting for his chief-stylist. It had become quiet, the machines had become silent, the people had vanished, Adam realized how nauseating it had been to be in this whirlwind of colors and people and voices. He was glad that he could breath for a moment, but then, the automatic door slid open with a faint hiss and revealed a cloud of white hair, supported by a tiny figure. His stylist, he guessed.

She looked weird. And for someone from the Capitol, that was seriously saying something! The slender woman didn’t wear half as much make-up as any other member of the styling team had and it looked almost conservative. Her clothing looked older than everyone’s, a blazer embroidered with flowers, a pink blouse that seemed like it was painted to her with watercolors and a skirt with several layers and plastic lace. She looked weird.

Adam stood up from the daybed he had been sitting on, when she came towards him and offered him her hand to shake it. “Hello, Adam. My name is Persephone. I’m your stylist.”, she said with a warm smile, that somehow even made Adam return it, if carefully though.

“Hi, I’m-“ He was so trained to answer with his own name, that he realized too late, that she -of course- already knew it. “happy to meet you.”, he finished.

Her smile faded. “As polite as that sounds, we both know it’s not true. Adam, I know this isn’t a pleasure or honor to you. With me, you don’t have to pretend otherwise.” There was a sincere understanding in her eyes that made Adam believe her.

“Sorry, Ma’am.”, he said honestly. He wasn’t sorry about not feeling honored to be a tribute, he guessed she would’ve seen right through that, too, but he did feel a little sorry for lying to her.

“You don’t need to call me that. I’d like us to see eye to eye, what do you think?”

It was difficult to imagine being on eyelevel with someone from the Capitol, but Persephone seemed to be the first person here that actually saw him as a person, not just a tribute. It felt nice for a change and since he didn’t have much to lose, he allowed himself to rest on it.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Persephone nodded softly, her wavy, white hair bounced in a way that made it seem alive. She had braided it in several places, but the braids always seemed to open up again, starting at the most random lengths and disappearing again. It looked messy, but felt like there was a pattern to it.

“Good. Now, Adam. After the reaping, we don’t have much time to choose how we want you to look during the parade. Sadly, that leaves little to no time to go over anything with you personally, so I will have to ask you to trust me with the designs for your public appearances.”, she explained.

Adam nodded. “I know.” He hadn’t thought he’d be asked about it anyways. After a stylist had lit both tributes of District twelve on fire or the parade a few years back, the costumes had become even more … interesting. Stylists didn’t only try to out-shine the other districts, but also their colleagues from the years before and Adam had been forced to watch the parades on tv, alongside everybody else. He was sure, none of the tributes had ben consulted about their costumes even once. “So, what are you going to make me look like?”, he asked.

Persephone looked at him like she hadn’t understood a single word in that question. It made Adam uncomfortable very fast.

“Do you know what I see, when I look at you?”, Persephone asked with a small, otherworldly voice.

Adam felt smaller under her gaze and had the distinct sense that it made him taller all at once. “A real piece of work?”, he suggested.

She shook her head ever so slightly, without saying a word. For another moment, she just looked at him, then she said: “A fighter. You have always been one, haven’t you, Adam?”

Her words made him lower his gaze. Avoid those eyes that looked like they were searching for a missing page in the book before her. Had he been a fighter? It was hard to see himself that way, when he thought of hiding from his father, ducking away from his punches, taking his kicks without so much as raising his arms for protection, never to fight back.

“It is not always a physical battle we fight, Adam.”, she added. Adam wondered if she had read his mind or if she had just found that missing page and somehow pieced it right into the rest of him. “Please stop thinking that I am going to make you look like something you are not.”

Carefully, he looked back up at her. She smiled warmly at him.

“I am going to help you show the world who you already are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for commenting so much!!!  
> Seriously, I love hearing or discussing theories with you and it is so motivating!
> 
> Now let's see, what Persephone's understanding of a fighter looks like, shall we?


	6. The parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That looks great!”, they heard a warm voice behind them. Blue sighed, switching from nervous to downright annoyed. “Oh my god, Persephone, you are brilliant! They both look amazing, I’m a little scared myself.”
> 
> “You should be…”, Blue mumbled under her breath, Adam stifled a laugh and she let go of his hand again.
> 
> “Oh, you should keep his up!”, Gansey encouraged them. “Hold hands, the people will love it!” He was talking more carefully now, nobody, including the other tributes and their teams should hear about their scheme, and to get to their chariot, every team would have to pass them by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Have a lot on my plate right now, especially a lot I need to write and I don't let myself work on this, because I get a really mean lash of guilt when I should actually be doing something else, but I wanted to treat myself with this! Selfcare, to me, apparently includes writing about beautiful boys and how they fall in love before they fall in love. 
> 
> Alright! Let's get going!

Persephone had assured Adam, that he looked strong. Adam did not feel strong. He felt a little cold, which he blamed on his mostly bare arms and the relatively low cut of his vest. It revealed a scar that trailed down his collarbone and that the team hadn’t even tried hiding.  
The fabrics of his outfit all looked heavy and solid, but none of them were and he wanted to have his jacket back. The only thing covering parts of his forearms, were broad bracelets like he had seen a while back, when the tributes one year had competed in some kind of a roman arena and had been handed parts of gladiator-armor. His vest reminded him of a tunic, a black, soft belt pinning it to his thin waist. He wore mostly black and dark-grey, his pants ended in the same elegantly engraved protections he also wore a little above his wrists. He felt ridiculous.

While the final touches were added to his outfit -Persephone fiddled with a fine, silvery kind of chain that she wrapped around his body artistically and that stayed in position where gravity should actually make it impossible to stick without being glued or sewed on-, Adam spotted Blue. She was wrapped in a matching dress, it looked solid like dark marble, but moved with her body like it was a liquid nightsky, bending this way and that to cover, but not limit her and the dark shades of her outfit met her tanned skin with ease. A similar chain was wrapped around her and it looked like she had been tied up until just this moment and the chain had frozen up in the moment that she broke it. He was sure their stylists would take huge risks with that design.

He also noticed how nicely Blue’s weirdly cut hair fell. It looked like fabric, clean and soft and swinging with every movement she made and it was held back only by a grey hairband. She wore a lot of dark make-up especially around her eyes, making them look menacing and according to how much time Persephone and her team had spent around his eyes, he probably looked similar. He knew that he also had the same dark smudges in his face that Blue wore alongside her prominently brought out cheekbones. War paint that looked like the stylists had taken solid coal to draw it. It did make her look strong, Adam realized.

Adam knew they had washed and cut his hair as well, tried to correct as much of the uneven cropping he had done by himself for years, now his hair was styled back, not slick, but wild in a way that took a lot of effort and styling to look effortless and chaotic, and after all the cleaning, they had sprayed charcoal dust and dirt back over the tips, over all of his outfit and body. They both didn’t look polished, they looked dark and used and dangerous. Adam liked Persephone a little for this work.

“Alright, time to get to the chariots.”, she said and re-adjusted the heavy iron-necklace that clung tight to his throat. She smiled encouragingly and went ahead into a long hall, where twelve pairs of horses waited for them, most of them black as Blue’s hair, except for two that Adam spotted in the front. The horses and chariot of District one were bright white and the most restless of them all. Adam was glad his District came last, so he didn’t have to pass the eyes of all the other tributes that were already waiting with their teams. Blue followed closely behind them with her stylist, who had a much harder time making the chain stay in place than Persephone had.

“You have already seen how this works, the horses do most of the work here.”, Persephone said, slipping one of the two majestic animals an oddly shaped treat. “They will pull you up to the front were President Snow is waiting, you wave or nod or smile or do whatever you do to present yourself to the Capitol and the rest of Panem, then they pull you back and that’s it for today. That’s all you have to do.”

“Doesn’t seem too hard…”, Blue said, but she sounded nervous. Adam noticed how she couldn’t stop fiddling with the seam of her belt, so he took her hand.

“That looks great!”, they heard a warm voice behind them. Blue sighed, switching from nervous to downright annoyed. “Oh my god, Persephone, you are brilliant! They both look amazing, I’m a little scared myself.”

“You should be…”, Blue mumbled under her breath, Adam stifled a laugh and she let go of his hand again.

“Oh, you should keep his up!”, Gansey encouraged them. “Hold hands, the people will love it!” He was talking more carefully now, nobody, including the other tributes and their teams should hear about their scheme, and to get to their chariot, every team would have to pass them by.

“I’m not doing this for you!”, Blue growled, but took Adam’s hand again.

“I know. You’re doing this for yourselves and for the sponsors.”, he immediately agreed. Adam was surprised that Blue’s deathgrip on his hand eased up a little. Even Gansey seemed capable of finding the right words at times.

“Now. Shall we go over the procedure again? I know, you’ve seen it on tv countless times, but this time, you’ll get to see it from a completely new angle.”, Gansey started explaining what sounded like far more effort than Persephone had implied earlier and when Adam caught her roll her eyes, he decided he liked her explanation better. He began looking around, let his gaze wander over all the kids he had seen during their tv sitting and that looked completely different now, with all their weird to menacing to fabulous costumes.

Adam locked eyes with a tribute that had stopped in his way of passing them. Blue eyes, lined with black and golden make-up looked back at him, when he recognized Ronan, the volunteer from District three.

Some animals wore bright colors as a warning, bared their teeth or growled to keep you away, and then there were animals that you just knew to keep a distance from. Where Blue looked dangerous, Ronan was a snake. Calm, not bearing his teeth, nor spitting threats. He just looked Adam in the eyes and made his danger be felt.

His hair was shaved down to almost nothing and it only made the sharp edges in his face pop out more prominently. There were dark lines running over his scalp, not too different from Adam’s and Blue’s warpaint. He also was impressively tall and muscular, which Adam had thought to be a trick on tv, because he had been standing next to a skinny woman and the little girl that was now holding his hand. She wore a dress that looked like it had been struck by a lightning, layers and layers of wildly cut yellow and black fabric, that was burned at the edges and torn at places, a little revealing for a twelve-year-old.

Ronan was dressed similarly lightly. He was weary pants that fell loosely around his legs and fit tightly around his ankles and waist, where it sat uncomfortably low, like the waistband was just the stylists way to underline the muscles right above it, because Ronan did not wear a shirt. He only had heavy necklace and various straps of dark leather running up his arms. Adam also saw dark paint peek over his shoulders and neck, hinting at a greater pattern on his back.

All of this made this young man look like the chief of a warrior-tribe, but what Adam couldn’t puzzle together was this overall look of a death-threat and how firmly he held on to that tiny girl’s hand and he realized, that Ronan, too, was looking at where Adam’s hand was holding Blue’s. It felt like they were talking, even though Adam could not think of any words to say to or hear from Ronan, but the look this warning of a man gave him, conveyed the strong feeling of something Adam recognized as spirit. Maybe attitude, but Adam felt a little more capable to actually fight.

“Move it, princess.”, a snarling voice interrupted Adam’s train of thought and -from the look of it- Ronan’s as well. A tribute, dressed in a white suit, his black hair slicked back by entirely white sunglasses, passed Ronan on his way to the front. Adam remembered the career that flipped the entire nation off at his reaping and he decided that it had not been an act to establish a public character even before the games actually had begun. This was real and this was probably going to be a problem.

“What a dick…”, Blue commented, she had been listening to Gansey as much as Adam had, which was to say not at all.

The ignored young man in question sighed desperately. “Okay, please don’t make any enemies just yet?”

“Why not?”, Adam asked completely without curiosity. “It’s not like we won’t have to fight them anyway. What’s the point in getting along with the other tributes? We’ll have to start killing each other in a few days anyway.”

Gansey stared at him, open mouthed and at a loss for words. Blue squeezed his hand briefly.

“That doesn’t mean you have to paint a target to the back of your heads.”, Noah said from where he stood with the horses, stroking his hands along one’s nose. Adam had not seen him join them, he was a little surprised he was actually with them now. “Make the careers hate you is a good way to get their attention and you don’t want that. You want to get the sponsor’s attention, but fly under the career’s radar.”

“And how are we going to do that?”, Blue snapped.

“You play nice. Smile for the cameras, smile for the sponsors, avoid talking to the careers. You’re the underdogs and they know that. As long as they are not proven wrong, they will probably not see you as a threat.”, Noah advised.

“Hmpf.”, Blue voiced her lack of amusement about this.

“You should get ready now, they’re about to begin.”, Persephone said and gestured ahead, where all the tributes started climbing up into their chariots. The stylists all made last-minute touches, Persephone only grabbed Adam by the wrist and squeezed it for a second. “You’re a warrior. Don’t forget that.”, she smiled and Adam nodded.

“Thank you.”, he said and looked up to where the first horses had started moving. Blue took a deep breath next to him and they both gripped the railing of their cart when it was their turn.

“Smile!”, Gansey shouted after them, Blue turned around and flipped him off, Adam couldn’t help but laugh. It helped easy the tension a little, that re-appeared just the second they finally left the hall and the horses pulled them out into the light, where thousands of people were shouting at them, watching them. Adam felt small and wanted nothing more than to hide behind the little wall of the chariot, but he reminded himself that he was a fucking warrior and he was here to show this to all of Panem.

His decision didn’t make the Capitol any less overwhelming, though. It wasn’t a sunny day, but the city shone brighter than Adam had seen any summer sky. The long road ahead of them was lined with massive crowds, a chaotic kaleidoscope of colors and shouts, Adam felt dizzy. His hearing side grew heavy and if it weren’t for Blue on his side, the world would have started to spin, driven by the sheer amount of wilderness this most civilized of all places radiated against them.

It struck a match inside of Adam, to discover once again, how disgusted he was by the Capitol people. Here they were, screaming at the tributes, not even applauding their bravery, like some would claim, not admiring their sacrifice, like others would propagate. They were cheering for artworks their stylists had created from human canvases and they probably were too delusional to see it themselves.

The ride seemed shorter than it usually did on tv, but then again it could have been all the adrenaline racing through his body. They had stopped, aligned in two rows in front of President Snow’s podium, all of them looking up against the sun to where their president was starting his speech now.

“Welcome, tributes! It is my greatest pleasure to welcome all of you into our midst.”

Someone close to them snorted. Adam looked around to see Ronan shake his head. From his place, he now had a good view on the black lines on Ronan’s back. They melted into each other, parted and intertwined in a hypnotic, impossible way and it seemed, the stylists had drawn it onto him with conductive paint, because there were small bridges of lightning dancing between all the hooks and crossings. The lightnings also flickered around the little girl’s dress, illuminating both her and him in a pale blue light every other second.

Ronan caught his gaze seemingly from the corner of his eyes, he held it for a second that felt longer than the entire way from the hall to the podium, before he looked up again, cocking his chin a little higher. A lightning caught his necklace and threw its cold light against Ronan’s edges, carving them out against the background of wild colors. Adam wondered if he had needed to be told to be a warrior or if people picked that up about him on their own.

President Snow’s short speech was coming to an end and Adam tore his attention away from the volunteer and back to the president.

“And may the odds be ever in your favor.” His voice echoed through the Capitol, the crowd went wild around them. Adam’s free hand on his side became a fist. He felt like a warrior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, they all look so cool! If any of you have some drawing-skills and a little time on your hands... Feel free to bring them all to life in their warrior-outfits! Don't forget to hit me up on Twitter (@FuyuHangetsu) or tumblr (dreamforestsmagician), if you do!
> 
> Thank you for reading, please yell at me over this <3


End file.
